Typical Weasley
by GlassCaseOfEmotion
Summary: Victoire's engagement to Scorpius means she's around Malfoy Hall far too often for Draco's comfort. Written for the Cross-Gen Competition.


**My first Draco centred story, written for opaque-girl's Cross-Gen Competition.**

**Quote: "And then you meet that one person and your life is changed forever"**

**A/N: I think somewhere in the story it refers to the mansion as "Malfoy Hall" rather then Manor, this is my head!canon that Draco would have pulled down at least sections if not all of the original manor, to get rid of the memories of the war when Voldemort was staying there. Just a personal thing so please don't point it out as a mistake!**

* * *

His fingers closed on the door handle. This was wrong. He knew he shouldn't be doing it. But… who was it hurting? She didn't know, Astoria didn't know, Scorpius didn't know… He pushed down on the handle and stepped out onto the balcony, the evening breeze cooling his flushed face.

His eyes travelled the gardens down below and stopped on the feminine figure sitting cross legged on the bench next to the rose bushes. She was reading, as usual, and this time she was so fixated on the story that her lips were moving slightly as she read. It was strangely … erotic.

Every week since the engagement was announced, she had visited Malfoy Hall for evening meal on Wednesdays and every Wednesday before the meal began she would sit outside and read. Merlin knew what Scorpius was doing during those times. Stupid boy.

Another soft breeze wafted through the gardens and lifted her golden hair up over her shoulder, exposing the pale column of her neck to his hungry eyes. His grip tightened on the balcony's rail as he imagined being next to her on that bench and just being able to lean down and trail his lips across the skin until-

He let out a startled yelp and spun round to glare at the cowering house elf who had just apparated with a loud _pop! _behind him.

"What?" he snapped, straightening his robes.

"Mistress says dinner is served," it squeaked.

Draco waved the terrified creature away and it vanished immediately. He turned back for one last look before heading down to see the elf passing on the same information to the girl, who was smiling at it politely. Hmph, he thought irritably, typical Weasley.

He started his descent down the huge staircase but paused at the intricately carved mirror hanging on the wall halfway down. Staring at his reflection Draco felt the old feelings of self-loathing and disgust creeping back on him. Merlin, he looked old. The first few streaks of grey were appearing in his otherwise platinum blond hair which was already receding, leaving his forehead looking even bigger than before. He peered closer, grimacing at the purple hue under his eyes; the result of such long hours working at the Ministry. Maybe it was time to take a break for a while, get out of the country and see-

"Father, stop preening and come for dinner. We're all starving."

Turning and looking down, Draco felt as though he was staring into another mirror. A twisted, damned mirror that showed him what he could have been. His son smirked back at him and spoke to the girl whose arm was linked through his.

"He's been very broody the last few months. Can't stop looking into that bloody mirror. Mother thinks it's his mid-life crisis starting," he mock-whispered, still smirking.

The blonde smiled but her brown eyes were staring into Draco's, not those of her fiancé's, and he felt his heart give a little leap. Did she know, somehow, what he had been thinking? What he had always been thinking since the moment he had laid eyes on her? The thought made him shiver.

"Go through, I'm coming," Draco managed, pulling his gaze away. Damn Veelas.

The young couple walked on into the dining room. Draco closed his eyes briefly, took a deep breath in and walked down the rest of the stairs.

"There you all are, I was beginning to think I would be dining alone tonight," Astoria admonished as Draco took his seat at the head of the long dining table.

"Apologies, Mother, Father was lamenting over his reflection again-" Astoria sent her husband a pained look, "- and Victoire was caught up in her novel."

The girl blushed. "Yes I am sorry, I completely lost track of time out there. The gardens are so beautiful as well."

Astoria's face softened as she offered her soon to be daughter-in-law a slight smile. "I know how it is to be sucked into the pages of a good book. Which novel are you currently reading?"

"Oh, well it's an old muggle classic actually…" she trailed off as Astoria's lips drew into a thin line and she looked down at the table, unsure of what to say next. Draco looked up from his plate in time to see Victoire's cheeks flush and the sight sent a jolt straight to his crotch. Calm down, calm down… he noticed with a mild touch of amusement that the tips of her ears were a bright scarlet. Typical Weasley, he thought, relaxing.

It was obvious Astoria was doing her best not to let her disdain show. Muggle-hating was no longer considered as acceptable among the Pureblood society as it had been (especially if one belonged to the precarious Malfoy line) though old habits die hard.

Scorpius cleared his throat. "The food is very good, Mother."

"I am sure the house elves will appreciate the praise, Scorpius," she said wryly and he gave a chuckle before tucking back into his meal.

Draco kept a surreptitious watch on the girl all through the meal as his wife and son made small talk. She didn't utter another word and seemed to have lost her appetite. How odd. Not Weasley-ish at all.

* * *

Draco tossed and turned later that night for hours before Astoria finally sat up with a loud sigh.

"Will you please stop!" she said irritably.

"Stop what?" he replied, settling on his side facing the balcony doors.

"You are keeping me awake with your constant restlessness," she grumbled, settling back down.

"Sorry," he replied, his eyes fixated on a point outside the window. Astoria muttered something and lay back down. Soon her steady rhythmic breathing told him she'd gone back to sleep and, pulling back the covers slowly, he crept out of bed and made his way outside into the cold night air.

Maybe she would be here, but then why would she, you fool, it's the middle of the night… Oh Merlin. He was hallucinating, he had to be. Either this was fate (not that he believed in such things) or his darkest fantasies had just come true. He left the balcony...

* * *

Victoire had felt his steely gaze on her all evening. In fact, she had been noticing a large amount of attention from Mr Malfoy over the last couple of months. She had put it down to disapproval: that he was angry his only son was marrying a Weasley much like her own family were but there was something else to it.

It was this thought that kept her from falling asleep next to Scorpius later that night in the grand four poster bed, so different from her own family home. Could her father-in-law … _want_ her? It sent an odd kind of thrill through her body and she shivered. No, this was wrong. She needed to clear her head, get some air.

The mansion was eerily quiet as she padded through the grandly decorated hallway. The light from her wand cast shadows that danced across the walls, mocking her as she scurried towards the gardens.

The cool breeze hit her flushed face as soon as she stepped outside and she briefly closed her eyes, savouring the sensation. The grass was damp and ticklish against her bare feet as she slowly made her way over to her favourite spot next to the fountain, surrounded by the rose bushes that cast a fragrant aroma across the secluded area.

The water trickled down from the tip of the stone pillar and flowed into the pool surrounding it with a calm steady rhythm that slowly washed her tired mind free of any unwanted thoughts. She leaned down and trailed a finger across the surface of the water. Her reflection blurred and twisted, like she was looking into a blurred mirror and she sighed wistfully. Her hand fumbled in the pocket of her coat, haphazardly pulled on over her nightdress, and her fingers closed around their prize; a dulled bronze knut. Straightening up, Victoire closed her eyes and after a moment's contemplation, threw the coin into the fountain where it landed with a small splash.

"That fountain is meant to be cursed."

The unexpected voice made her whirl around, and in her surprise she became off-balance and tripped over her own foot: landing with a considerably larger splash in the pool of cold water. Gasping and spluttering, she emerged and looked around for the speaker, however her eyesight was blurred and she couldn't make out the figure. A strong hand gripped her forearm and she was lifted out of the fountain onto dry land.

Draco steadied her on her feet, taking her temporary distractedness as an opportunity to look her over. Her blonde hair was plastered to her head, with a few strands sticking to her cheeks which were wet and flushed a deep pink from embarrassment.

"I was… I couldn't sleep," she stuttered.

"So you decided to go for a swim," he stated with a small smirk. She bristled.

"Well you shouldn't sneak up on people!" she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It's my land; I can sneak up on whoever I want."

"And spy on whoever you want as well?" Victoire retorted, feeling her temper rise.

Draco was enjoying this new side to her even while her last comment rankled him. Her eyes flashed with anger and her chest rose and fell with each indignant breath. Tearing his eyes away from her, he said dismissively, "I have no idea what you're talking about, Weasley."

"You've been watching me for months!" she said indignantly taking a step closer to him.

He raised an eyebrow. "If it would do your ego any damage to think otherwise then I won't contradict you."

"You won't contradict me because you know it's true," Victoire insisted stepping even closer to him, so they were almost toe to toe.

Draco rolled his eyes, "If that's what you want to believe. I've learned over the years there is no point arguing with Weasleys. Too stubborn, pig-headed, to have a proper debate. There's no pleasure in it."

"Now you see here!" she hissed, prodding him painfully in the chest with each syllable. "I've heard a lot of bad things about you and _your_ family back home and after I met Scorpius I thought … I thought everyone was wrong about you!"

"And now what do you think?" he asked, catching her wrist and holding it mid-air as he fixed her with a cool gaze. Inside, he was over-heating.

The action shocked her and she stared up at him with large eyes as she struggled to formulate a reply. "I think you're an arrogant bastard," she breathed.

"Then I have to congratulate you on your good judge of character. A refreshing change for a Wea-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence!" Victoire warned, pointing a finger on her free hand in his face. Draco smirked and caught that one in a similar grip.

"For a Weasley," he said. His hands trailed down her forearms and up to her bare, wet shoulders. She shivered, not just from the breeze, and pressed her palms against his chest as her eyes made contact with his once more.

Draco's mind was whirring at top speed, he knew what he wanted to do, he knew what _she_ wanted to do, but it wasn't what he _should _do. He had a wife waiting in bed for him; she, a fiancé. His son. Closing his eyes briefly, Draco summoned all the strength he had and stepped away from her. It was agonising to watch the surprise and hurt cross her lovely features but he kept his face a mask.

"You should get back inside, before you get cold," he said.

Victoire looked down and nodded. "You're quite right. We should both get back, before we're missed."

The barb was unmistakeable and he inclined his head.

"Sleep well, Weasley."

"Wait!" He turned to look at her, almost instantly regretting it.

"What's the curse? On the fountain?" she asked softly.

The corner of his mouth turned upwards slightly. "Look it up."

Sliding back into bed five minutes later, Draco let out a soft sigh and winced as Astoria, still fast asleep, rolled over and nestled her head into his shoulder. Reluctantly, he wrapped his arm around her slim frame and pulled her close, dropping a kiss onto her too dark hair. He couldn't help but wonder as he started to doze off... what she had been wishing for...

* * *

Breakfast was a tense affair the next morning. Astoria's eyes kept flicking between the empty chairs and her lips pursed in disapproval as each second ticked by with no sign of Scorpius or Victoire.

"It's very rude," she muttered finally.

"It's just breakfast," Draco replied, batting down his own ill feelings as he continued in a falsely casual tone, "They're young and in love, you remember what it was like."

Her silence spoke volumes and he felt another stab at his insides. Footsteps broke through the ugly silence and Draco looked up from his newspaper as Scorpius took his seat, alone.

"Victoire… is gone," he said slowly, reaching for the bread. His grey eyes made contact with an identical set across the dining table. "Apparently, she's having second thoughts about our marriage and has returned home for the foreseeable future."

He said it as if he were discussing the latest Quidditch results but his father read the unspoken words in his son's hate-filled stare. Astoria immediately started asking questions which Scorpius answered with as few words as possible. Draco returned to his newspaper, but his mind was nowhere near the Ministry's latest reforms. No doubt he would literally be reading about the broken engagement the next day.

* * *

_Sometime in the sixteenth century, Elizabeth Malfoy had become infatuated with Alphonse Nott, a pureblood with good looks and wit. He returned her feelings but was unwilling to commit adultery, so she lured him to the gardens where she convinced him to drink from the fountain, claiming it had great powers. In fact, she had mixed in Amortentia and after several gulps, he was willing to do whatever she wanted. She convinced him to kill her husband as that would be the only way they could get married, and so, in the dark of night, Elizabeth let him into Lord Malfoy's bed chamber. Aware of the plan, however, he quickly overpowered and murdered his wife's lover before throwing her out of the Manor, onto the streets to live like the scum she so despised. Heartbroken and desolate, Elizabeth did not survive long shunned by society. To this day, the fountain is said to carry her curse which will bring misery and bad fortune to all who wish by it._

Victoire lay in bed, ignoring her sister's pleas from the other side of the door. Her feelings had taken over, she couldn't stay in that place anymore now that the truth was out. She was no Malfoy, she couldn't squash her feelings into the back of her mind and forget about them. She was a Weasley.

A typical fucking Weasley.

* * *

**Feedback is appreciated :)**


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